TRAVEL THROUGH BIOMES

Snowy Peaks: The group trudged through a mountain pass, snow clinging to their cloaks. The wind howled like a feral beast, whipping against their faces. Samson led the way, unbothered by the biting cold, while Mikael complained about frostbite. Artreus pressed on, gritting his teeth, determined not to show weakness.

Lush Forests: A stark contrast to the icy mountains, the vibrant green forest was alive with the hum of insects and the calls of birds. Mikael expertly shot a bird mid-flight, grinning as it fell to the ground. Artreus gathered wild berries, examining their colors to ensure they weren't poisonous. Aidan, ever-silent, carried a small rabbit he had hunted earlier.

Wide Plains: The boys raced each other across open plains, their laughter carried by the wind. Mikael teased Artreus for being slow, only to be overtaken moments later. At night, they huddled around a small campfire, the sky above them a tapestry of stars. Stories of past battles and future dreams filled the air as the flames danced in the cool breeze.

Samson and the boys—Artreus, Aidan, and Mikael—stand before a dense wall of branches, vines, and thick undergrowth that seems to stretch endlessly in either direction. The forest is deathly quiet, an eerie stillness that makes the boys uneasy. Above them, sunlight struggles to pierce through the thick canopy.

Artreus frowns, his hands on his hips as he glares at the impenetrable greenery. "This is it? This is supposed to be Merlin's place?" His voice carries an edge of doubt. "It looks like nothing more than an overgrown hedge."

Samson snorts in amusement, a sly grin playing on his lips. "That's because you're looking with your eyes, not your instincts." He steps forward, towering over Artreus, and slaps him lightly on the back of the head.

Artreus winces, rubbing the spot. "Ow! What was that for?"

Samson gestures toward the wall of greenery with a knowing smirk. "It's a magic illusion, you idiot. Walk through it."

Artreus stares at him, incredulous. "Walk through it? Are you kidding? What if it's solid and I smack right into it?"

Samson crosses his arms, his grin widening. "Only one way to find out."

Reluctantly, Artreus takes a deep breath, stepping cautiously toward the wall. His hand stretches forward hesitantly, fingertips brushing the vines. To his astonishment, his hand passes straight through the barrier as if it were made of mist.

His jaw drops. "Whoa…"

Samson chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. Magic. Get moving."

With renewed confidence, Artreus steps fully into the illusion, disappearing into the greenery. Mikael and Aidan exchange a glance—Mikael grinning with excitement, Aidan sighing in exasperation—before following Artreus through. Samson strides in last, as calm and unhurried as ever.

On the other side, the dense forest opens into a breathtaking clearing bathed in golden light. At its center stands Merlin's Tower—a tall, spiraling structure of ancient stone, its surface etched with glowing runes that seem to pulse faintly with life. The tower is surrounded by vibrant greenery, magical flora blooming in every color imaginable, and tiny glowing wisps that flit through the air like enchanted fireflies.

Artreus stares up at the tower, awe plastered across his face. "This… this is incredible. Is this really where Merlin lives?"

Mikael whistles, his eyes darting between the tower and the magical flora. "This is more like it! Way better than training in swamps or mountains."

Aidan, ever the stoic, scans the area with narrowed eyes. "It's well-protected," he mutters. "No wonder no one finds him unless he wants to be found."

As they approach the tower, the ground begins to tremble. Massive stone golems, towering figures of rock and earth, emerge from the perimeter. Their glowing eyes lock onto the group, and their heavy footfalls shake the ground as they lumber forward, arms raised in warning.

Mikael freezes, pointing a trembling finger. "Uh… Samson? What the hell are those?!"

The boys instinctively draw their weapons, their nerves on edge. Aidan shifts into a defensive stance, his katana ready, while Mikael conjures a faint shadowy blade in his hand. Artreus grips his sword tightly, his heart racing.

Before any of them can act, a calm, commanding voice rings out, echoing through the clearing.

"Let them in."

The golems stop abruptly, their massive frames lowering as they return to their sentry positions. The boys exchange relieved glances as Samson gestures for them to continue.

"See?" Samson says with a smirk. "Told you he's got his defenses up. Merlin's always been paranoid."

The inside of the tower is just as magical as the outside. Shelves of ancient tomes stretch to the ceiling, interspersed with glowing orbs and artifacts that hum with dormant power. The scent of herbs and old parchment fills the air, and a massive cauldron bubbles quietly in one corner. A circular window near the top of the room casts a shaft of light onto a wooden desk cluttered with scrolls, vials, and scattered runes.

Standing at the center of the room, Merlin turns to greet them. His ageless face is framed by long silver hair, and his robe shimmers faintly, runes embroidered into the fabric glowing softly. His sharp eyes immediately land on Samson, and a faint smirk tugs at his lips.

"Well, well," Merlin says, his voice smooth and dry. "If it isn't Samson the Relentless. To what do I owe the pleasure? Or is this another one of your 'emergency' visits?"

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Samson grins, spreading his arms. "Merlin! Still as dramatic as ever. And look at you! Did you find the fountain of youth, or is this some new skincare routine?"

Merlin rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless. "You've always been insufferable, Samson."

Meanwhile, Mikael leans toward Artreus, whispering under his breath. "That's Merlin? I thought he'd be older. You know, white beard, hunched over, muttering spells."

Artreus nods, equally surprised. "Yeah… He's not what I expected either."

Merlin overhears them and raises an amused eyebrow. "Wizards age gracefully, boys. Perks of the job."

He turns back to Samson, his tone growing more serious. "So? What is it this time? Surely you didn't drag your little entourage all the way here just to waste my time."

Samson's grin fades, replaced by a resolute expression. "We need your help, Merlin. The princess of Elenora is missing. The elves sent us to find her."

Merlin's brow furrows, his demeanor instantly shifting. "The princess? Guinevere Aragorn?"

Samson nods. "That's the one. She's gone, taken by someone—or something—that knows how to use mana. We need your expertise."

Merlin rubs his chin, the weight of the situation settling in. "If what you're saying is true, this isn't just a simple rescue mission. The royal bloodline of Elenora… their connection to mana is unparalleled. If she's been taken by someone who understands that power…"

Samson finishes his thought. "Then it's not just her life at stake—it's the balance of this world."

Merlin's gaze hardens as he looks between Samson and the boys. Finally, he nods. "Alright. I'll help you find her. But I expect something in return."

Samson smirks. "A favor, right? No funny business, Merlin."

Merlin chuckles. "When have I ever been funny?"

the spell room thrummed with ancient energy. The chamber was vast, its walls adorned with glowing runes that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. The air was heavy with magic, and the boys—Artreus, Aidan, and Mikael—stood in awe of the arcane power that seemed to seep from every corner.

Merlin's sharp gaze landed on Artreus, his expression unreadable. The wizard's silver hair shimmered under the faint light of the room, and his piercing eyes seemed to see more than just the young man before him.

"So," Merlin began, his voice carrying a weight that commanded attention, "you're Arthur's brother. Artreus Reigns."

Artreus straightened instinctively, his chest tightening as Merlin continued, "I can see a bit of him in you. The resemblance is faint, but it's there. Your brother saved you during the invasion of the Demon King Abaddon and his armies. He fought valiantly to protect your home."

The mention of Arthur made Artreus's heart ache with a mixture of pride and longing. He swallowed hard, meeting Merlin's gaze with determination. "I've heard stories about you and my brother," Artreus said, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling within him. "I want to know what happened to him. After the battle with Abaddon… is he alive?"

Merlin's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he quickly masked it. "Later," he replied firmly. "Right now, we have more pressing matters. The Princess of Elenora is far more important. Her royal blood is a treasure that cannot fall into the wrong hands. If we don't act now, it may be too late."

Though frustration flickered across Artreus's face, he nodded. He knew Merlin was right. As much as he yearned for answers about his brother, the princess's rescue had to take precedence.

Merlin turned toward the center of the room, where an intricate circle of runes covered the floor. The symbols began to glow as he stepped into the middle, his movements deliberate. The air seemed to grow heavier, vibrating with raw power as Merlin raised his hands.

The boys watched in silence as the wizard's fingers wove through the air, tracing intricate patterns. The symbols on the ground brightened, and a low hum filled the room. Wind began to pick up, swirling around them and carrying with it a strange, otherworldly chill.

"This room," Merlin said, his voice calm despite the growing intensity, "is designed for scrying and teleportation. It allows me to see far and send others across great distances. Now, hold still."

The hum grew louder, and the boys exchanged glances. Even Aidan, usually unshaken, looked slightly on edge. The glowing symbols began to shift and rearrange themselves, forming new patterns as Merlin's hands moved faster.

"I can see it now," Merlin murmured, his voice distant as if he were looking into another world. "The princess… she's being held by a group of demi-humans and humans. They've taken her deep into the north, where the trees grow thick and the forest turns dark. There are castle ruins—ancient and long forgotten."

"Then that's where we're headed," Samson said firmly, his arms crossed as he observed the scene with practiced calm.

Merlin's eyes snapped open, the glow from the runes reflecting in his irises. His tone turned urgent. "There's no time to waste. I'll send you there directly."

Before the boys could respond, Merlin's hands moved in a sweeping motion, completing the spell. He pressed his palms against the glowing circle on the ground, and the entire room seemed to shift. A sudden surge of energy rushed upward, engulfing the boys in a brilliant light.

"Hold tight," Merlin said, his voice sharp over the roar of magic. "This will be a little… disorienting."

The floor beneath their feet shimmered, warping like water disturbed by a stone. The air grew thick, pressing against them as if the very fabric of reality was bending. The walls of the spell room blurred, and the boys felt as though they were being pulled through space itself.

The castle ruins were a foreboding sight. Dark, jagged walls loomed against the night sky, crumbling but still imposing. Vines snaked through the stone, reclaiming the structure as nature slowly devoured it. Inside, dimly lit torches flickered, casting eerie shadows across the ancient hallways. The air was thick with tension, and the distant murmurs of the bandits echoed through the ruins.

A group of night bandits—humans and demi-humans alike—stood guard, their eyes scanning the perimeter. Among them, a beast-woman with sharp ears and piercing yellow eyes perked up, her head tilting as if she had heard something strange.

"What's that?" she hissed, her voice low and wary.

Above them, the sky rippled unnaturally. A beam of blinding light shot down, slamming into the ground with a deafening roar. The impact sent a shockwave through the ruins, scattering the guards like leaves in the wind. Dust and debris clouded the air as the light slowly faded, revealing four figures standing at its center.

Before the bandits could recover, Artreus surged forward, his sword gleaming in the faint torchlight. He moved with speed and precision, cutting down a guard before they could even raise their weapon. Blood sprayed against the stone walls as the bandits scrambled to regroup.

Mikael was close behind, his short swords already in motion. He hurled them with practiced accuracy, each blade finding its mark in the chaos. From the shadows, his magic manifested, creating spectral blades that struck at distant targets with deadly precision.

Aidan darted in next, his katana flashing as he weaved through the enemy ranks. His strikes were swift and calculated, each one precise enough to sever armor and flesh alike. Bandits fell one by one as he carved a path through the fray.

Samson brought up the rear, his sheer presence radiating power. A bandit charged at him, swinging a heavy mace, but Samson caught the weapon mid-swing with his bare hand. With a roar, he hurled the attacker into a nearby wall, the impact shaking the crumbling structure. He moved with incredible strength and speed, his fists breaking bones and his kicks sending enemies flying.

The bandits regrouped, but their numbers were thinning. The beast-woman snarled, rallying the others with a piercing howl. "Hold the line!" she screamed, her claws elongating as she leapt toward Artreus.

Artreus met her head-on, their blades clashing with a sharp ring of steel. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows, the beast-woman's ferocity matched by Artreus's determination.